


Just The Three Of Us

by poisonbutterfly



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Feels, M/M, Polyamory, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 09:51:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16851811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonbutterfly/pseuds/poisonbutterfly
Summary: Phillip’s favorite mornings are the ones where he wakes tangled between the two people in this world who love him the most and who he loves just as fervently in return.





	Just The Three Of Us

Phillip’s favorite mornings are the ones where he wakes tangled between the two people in this world who love him the most and who he loves just as fervently in return.

Charity curls into Phillip’s back, littering lazy kisses to the top of his spine, his neck, his shoulders. Phillip’s head rests on Phineas’ chest, Phineas’ fingertips tracing circles into Phillip’s scalp. The soft, melodic cadence of his lover's voices, discussing the day ahead, washes over Phillip’s ears. This is truly where he belongs; wrapped in a cocoon of sheets and sleep warmed skin, Charity’s arm around Phillip’s waist holding him close, Phillip content to rise and fall with each breath Phineas draws.

Being a late riser in a houseful of early birds means, more often than not, Phillip wakes to cold, empty sheets, laughter drifting up the stairs and the smell of breakfast hanging in the air. Caroline and Helen rise with the sun, two little bundles of energy who take great joy in poking and prodding Phillip back to consciousness on school days, giggling as he grumbles and groans, only to peck him sweetly on the cheek and wish him a good day before dashing out the door.

Phillip’s eyelids flutter open, squinting at the bright light pouring around the curtains. The sun has been up for hours and the house is uncharacteristically quiet, lacking the familiar sound of the girls playing down the hall. Phillip tries to remember what day it is.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Phineas murmurs.

Phillip grunts, shifting to nuzzle his face into the crook of Phineas’ neck. He lavishes Phineas’ skin with open-mouthed kisses before resting his lips against the fluttering pulse point at Phineas' throat. The fingers in Phillip’s hair twitch and tighten, Phineas’ nosing against his crown.

Charity laughs. Phillip can hear the fond smile in her voice. “Always so eloquent in the mornings.”

He finds her hand resting on his hip and laces their fingers together, squeezing gently.

Phillip falling in love with Charity was an unexpected surprise for all three, a twist in an already unconventional arrangement of hearts. With Charity’s blessing, Phineas and Phillip’s relationship had tentatively blossomed and flourished in the wake of the fire. They threw caution to the wind and enough fuel on society's rumour mill to churn for the rest of the decade when they moved Phillip into the Barnum mansion.

From there, when Phineas was away on business or spending extra time with the girls, Phillip and Charity spent long, rainy afternoons talking about nothing and everything, reading aloud to one another in the library, a room that made Phillip’s eyes go wide as saucers the first time he set foot inside. Phillip and Charity found they had more in common than they ever knew; both runaways, both had a terrible relationship with their parents, both had once longed to be free of their stifling, colourless world of luxury and privilege.

It makes perfect sense they both fell for the extraordinary man who set them free of the gold gilded cage and brought such indescribable joy into their lives.

During one viciously freezing night a few Christmases ago, the three of them ended up huddled together in one bed, curled into each other for warmth, shivering beneath the heavy pile of blankets. When dawn came, Phillip’s eyes had flickered open and the first thing Phillip saw was Charity asleep beside him, palm tucked under her cheek, golden curls billowing across her face with every breath, her expression one of soft tranquility. The final puzzle piece fell into place, showing the bigger picture Phillip had blissfully ignored in the months spent in Charity's company. Phillip had realized, between one heartbeat and the next, that he was in love with Phineas _and_ his wife.

The tears then came quick and sudden, panic stealing the air from his lungs. Phillip disturbed his bedfellows with his distress, unable to free himself from under the mountain of blankets to flee the scene. He had cried on Phineas’ shoulder, explaining in halting sentences and broken words that he was so _sorry_ , that he never _meant_ to feel this way for Charity, that he _knew_ it wasn’t part of the deal. Phineas took Phillp’s face in his hands, kissed away his tears and said, teasingly, “so you've stolen the heart of every Barnum under this roof. You'd give O'Malley a run for his money with your thieving”.

Phillip had trembled with joy when Charity's lips brushed his for the first time, ever so softly, Charity murmuring _it’s okay, it’s all okay_ against his mouth.

The house, and by extension, the circus, became a sanctuary for the three of them, where they didn’t have to worry about what people might think if Phillip kissed the back of Charity's hand, or if Phineas absently slipped one of Phillip's many affectionate nicknames into conversation. Their bed is the place where Phillip feels safest, feels cherished, laying between the two most beautiful people Phillip's ever set eyes on.

“You make the most adorable sounds in your sleep, did you know?”

Phillip curls tighter into the heat radiating from Phineas' body and claps a hand over the ringmaster's mouth. “Shhhh. Early.”

Phineas’ laugh is a surprised huff of air and he licks a sloppy trail across Phillip’s palm in retaliation. Phillip yelps, withdrawing his hand as if burnt and Phineas looks very pleased with himself, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Darling, it’s gone ten,” Phineas informs him, amused.

Charity's mouth finds Phillip's ear, giving the shell a little nip. “We’ve been waiting hours for you to wake up.”

Phillip sighs, rolling onto his back. A frown pulls at his eyebrows; Charity and Phineas know he can sleep until late afternoon if allowed. Usually he's left to slumber on alone, unless there are more pressing matters to attend to at the circus. “Why?”

His lovers exchange a glance.

“If a man can’t sleep in on his birthday, is it _really_ a birthday at all?” Phineas wonders enigmatically.

_Ah_.

The last vestiges of lethargy are shaken from his veins as Phillip finally puts words to the niggling feeling in the back of his mind. It's his _birthday_.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” Charity asks quietly, eyes a little sad, combing her fingers through Phillip’s hair.

“I...would’ve remembered after coffee,” Phillip assures them, a touch defensively. In truth, he hadn’t been keeping track of the days. It was only after joining the circus, after spending time with Caroline and Helen, that Phillip learnt it was normal for people, for children, to look forward to their birthdays with excited anticipation.

A big deal was made of Phillip’s 30th last year. The surprise party that was no longer a surprise from the moment Charles found out about it was all anyone would talk about for weeks in the run-up to the day. This year, with no big celebration planned, it had silently crept up on Phillip. Another year older, just like that.

“Well it’s a good thing then we didn’t let Caroline and Helen wake you with cake and balloons at five o’clock like they wanted,” Phineas laughs. “That really would’ve been a shock to the system.”

“Happy birthday, Phillip,” Charity cheers, a sentiment echoed by her husband.

Charity brushes their noses together before capturing Phillip’s mouth with her own. The kiss is tender, sweet and slow. Phillip melts into the press of Charity’s lips, sighing happily, electrifying warmth spreading right down to the tips of his toes.

Phillip barely has time to catch his breath before Phineas is kissing him next, cradling Phillip like he’s the most precious being in all of creation, whispering words of appreciation and love against his lips.

“Come downstairs, we’ll make you anything you want for breakfast,” Phineas promises, clambering from the bed.

Phillip’s protests die in his throat as his stomach growls hungrily in response. He forces himself up and into the dressing gown Charity holds out ready for him. Phineas rushes on ahead to heat up the stove. Phillip links his fingers through Charity’s, swapping smiles and soft kisses as they make their way downstairs.

The sight that greets Phillip as he enters the kitchen takes his breath away. The dining table is overflowing with piles of neatly wrapped presents. They can hardly move for all the balloons scattered everywhere. A cake sits centre stage, loving made and iced by Caroline and Helen and reads _happy birthday, Flip!_

Charity grins proudly at the scene. “You can tell our daughters had a hand in organising all this.”

“We’re not supposed to let you in here until they get home,” Phineas explains over his shoulder, busy preparing the coffee. “So you have to act surprised when they show you.”

“This is _brilliant_.” Phillip's smile stretches from ear to ear, his heart full and fit to burst.

He’s been part of the Barnum family for years now but it never fails to amaze him just how much they _care_. The overwhelming rush of gratitude he feels for them doesn’t seem adequate enough for two simple words. Instead, Phillip pulls Charity into his arms, holding her tightly, lovingly, with everything he cannot hope to express. Phillip chuckles against Charity’s neck as moments later, Phineas’ arms embrace them both from behind.

The three of them stay like that for a long time, wrapped in each other, a tangle of limbs and hearts.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


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